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Friday, July 23, 2010

The Not Prodigal Daughter

If you read my Fawk You Friday post, you know that my mother has been driving me a little nuts lately, here's a little bit of why:

I was in the hospital for 4 days and she came to visit once (maybe twice, I was a little drugged), and the whole time she gave me a guilt trip about how much Tallulah missed me. (Because I chose to be in the hospital, obviously)

She can't sit in an uncomfortable auditorium chair for 1 hour for my daughter, but she can drive 8 hours for my sister's daughter's birthday party.

She was telling me about her will and explained how she's leaving my sister most of the money, because I get the house. (Keep in mind this is the same house that I have been paying the mortgage on for almost 6 years)

She wants to have a mini-family reunion in September because my sister won't come to Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter or 4th Saturdays (extended family dinner once a month).

All of these are on top of the day to day irritations, like not buying me toilet paper when I ask her to (she's in charge of groceries, I'm in charge of bills) or interfering with my parenting or making comments about how I do laundry (when I clearly remember as a child having to dig through the dirty laundry that covered half of a 2 car garage to find something to wear).

And none of these things would really bother me if a) it was only one of them or b) my sister wasn't such a raging bitch to her.

I'm feeling very much like the Not Prodigal Son. He stayed home and tended the sheep (or whatever the hell it was they had) and helped his father with the servants and did everything that was expected of a good son, and his dickwhistle brother gave Dad a big "fuck you" and went off on his own. But then when he came back Dad's all open arms and "I missed you so much!!!!!" and "let me throw a feast for you".

Did Dad ever throw a feast for the son who brought him his dinner and washed his dishes and paid his bills and ran his errands and nursed him when he was sick and picked up his perscriptions and cleaned his house and entertained his friends and actually gave a flying fuck about him??

No.

He rolled out the red carpet for the fucktard.

Yeah, that's my mom.

What can I do that will make Amara love me?

Amara wants something, so I'd better drop everything and run to her.

Amara is upset with me, I'll think I'll cry.

I'm getting fed-up with this shit. Amara's not going to be the one wiping Mom's ass when she's old and decrepit. In fact, as soon as she turns senile and forgets her number, my money's on Amara never calling her again.

And I get that you love your children equally, but this is not equal, this is "I don't need to take special care of my relationship with Jenn, because she'll always be there" - and it's fucked up.

I was the only child and while I loved my mother, I cant say that I liked her much. Im still coming to terms ( or trying to ) with the things she did to me when she was alive. Nothing abusive, just evil.

Jennifer, these issues seem to be universal. Every day I read about a mother like mine (only not as bad). I offered to let my mother live with me when she got older, knowing full well that she would decline because she finally learned that she couldn't hurt me any more, and that she would have to live by my rules.

My younger brother was executor, because, by her own admission, he was her favorite.

Jennifer Juniper

I'm a moderately insane, blissfully happy 29 year old woman. I'm married to the love of my life and I have two gorgeous children who know that their mother is just a little crazy and I think they like it that way.

Seriously?? Bean??

You won't find any real names in this blog - I think it's horribly unfair of me to talk about my friends and family without their knowledge AND use their actual names..

I'm hoping that you already caught on to that, I mean really, did you think I'd marry someone named Bean??